Chapter 4: He was coming in.

Lyra's POV

The sound of shattering porcelain rendered the living room so silent you could hear a pin drop.

I walked in and saw them—my biological mother and father.

They looked familiar, though I'd never met them in person.

Brandon and Elena, the Alpha CEO of Silver Moon Holdings and his Luna, frequently appeared in magazines and across social media, famous for their extravagant displays of affection toward their daughter Cynthia.

For her twelfth birthday, they'd lit up the entire city with fireworks.

At fifteen, she received a castle.

When she turned eighteen, they gifted her a private island bearing her name.

They had given her everything.

If she was a princess raised in a honeypot of adoration, then I was a fly struggling in the mud.

"You're Lyra?"

Elena's voice carried uncertainty as her eyes traveled up and down my body, and I didn't miss the flash of disgust that flickered across her face.

"She looks so shabby, and those bruises—do you really think she can pull this off?"

"That's me," I replied, settling myself onto their leather sofa without waiting for an invitation.

The gesture earned me another round of disapproving glares, but I didn't care.

I'd never been the type to cry and play the delicate flower.

I'd grown up surrounded by violence and rogues, in a pack where poverty was a constant companion.

For food, for survival, I'd learned to do whatever it took.

Contempt, brutality, exile—I'd faced them all.

Forcing myself to ignore their judgmental stares, I focused on what mattered.

"I heard everything. I'll do it, but don't forget—I have other conditions."

"Conditions?"

Cynthia's voice rose in accusation as she pointed at me.

"Didn't you already demand one million? Daddy, Mommy, I think she's doing this on purpose."

"Sweetheart, don't worry," Elena immediately pulled her daughter into a protective embrace, stroking her hair soothingly.

"Your father will handle this."

Brandon's expression darkened, his jaw tightening.

"Greed should have limits. We've already given you one million dollars."

I met his gaze directly, staring into those green eyes that mirrored my own.

"That was the condition for me to show up at all. I could have refused, and then your precious princess would be the one marrying the twisted, crippled man you're all so afraid of."

I shrugged, letting the words hang in the air.

"You know what kind of person he is. If I'm walking into a situation where he might beat me half to death, don't I deserve some compensation for medical expenses?"

They exchanged a glance, struggling to contain their anger.

If they didn't need me to take Cynthia's place, they would have thrown me out already.

Actually, if not for this arrangement, they probably never would have acknowledged my existence at all—they already had the daughter they wanted.

"State your terms," Brandon said, his voice low and impatient.

"Shares," I said simply.

"I want thirty percent of Silver Moon Holdings."

"Are you insane?"

Cynthia's tears vanished instantly as she pointed at me, her voice climbing to a shriek.

"Look at yourself! Look at how pathetic you are! How dare you ask for thirty percent? Even I only have five!"

I looked at her calmly.

"Then you go marry him instead."

She immediately threw herself into Elena's arms.

"No! Mom! But why should she get so much? It's not fair!"

"Absolutely not," Brandon said flatly, his eyes hardening with displeasure.

"Choose something else. We can give you money."

I stood up and started walking toward the door, even though my palms had begun to sweat.

"Then we have nothing to discuss."

I wasn't certain they'd agree, but I had to gamble.

I had no other options left.

"Wait!"

Brandon's voice stopped me just as I reached the door.

"Five percent. That's all."

I turned back.

"Ten."

"Fine. But you'll sign a contract, and you won't receive the shares until you've been married to him for at least six months."

I shook my head.

"Three months."

"Don't push your luck!"

Elena snatched a teacup from the table and hurled it at me.

Porcelain shards exploded across the floor as I dodged.

"I'm ashamed that I gave birth to someone like you! You're disgusting—just like those filthy, lowborn rogues!"

"Enough."

Brandon cut her off, his cold gaze fixed on me.

"One million dollars and ten percent of the shares. But after this, you won't receive any help from us. Not ever."

"That sounds perfect," I said.

I'd never expected their help anyway.

Only what I could hold in my hands was real.

The contract arrived quickly.

I signed it and tossed the pen aside.

"When do I leave?"

"Wait, let me hug my sister."

Cynthia approached with a sweet smile and wrapped her arms around me, but her whispered words were venomous.

"I hope you live long enough to spend that money. Did you see? Even your real parents don't love you."

I smiled back at her.

"Instead of wasting your breath, you should pray that man doesn't discover the truth too quickly."

"You—if you dare expose this arrangement, I'll kill you!"

Cynthia's finger jabbed toward me as she raised her voice.

"Mom, she's not sincere about this at all!"

Elena pulled her daughter close again.

"Leave. Now. You're frightening our baby."

I looked at them one last time, then turned and walked out.

The familiar ache settled in my chest as the door closed behind me.

Sitting in the car afterward, even Ella, my wolf, who'd been restless around Vern, had gone quiet.

She was hurting.

So was I.

The driver began briefing me on my new husband as we drove.

Drax Hollister, Alpha of Blackthorn Pack, one of the top packs in Grand Oak Estates, and CEO of Beaumont Group, ranked among the world's top one hundred companies.

This marriage had apparently been arranged by the previous generation of both families.

If he hadn't been crippled and disfigured in a car accident two years ago—and if the rumors about his twisted proclivities weren't true—Cynthia would probably have been thrilled to marry him.

My phone buzzed several times, interrupting my thoughts.

Vern: Where the hell are you?

Vern: Sylvia wants your white truffle risotto. Get back here and make it.

Vern: She's not feeling well. Come back and massage her like you used to. It's your job.

Vern: Don't test my patience, Lyra.

Vern: Running won't help. I bonded you—you're MINE. I can track you anywhere. There's nowhere you can hide from me.

Vern: You think you can just leave? You're nothing without me. Come crawling back before I drag you back myself.

I stared at the last message, my hands shaking.

The words blurred as a worse realization crashed over me.

In my desperation to get the money for Mia's treatment, I'd hidden the truth from Brandon and Elena.

I was already bonded to Vern.

Among wolves, a bond wasn't like a temporary mark that could fade with time or distance—it was permanent, carved into the very essence of a wolf's soul.

The bond scent became part of you, woven into your pheromones, detectable by any Alpha with a keen enough nose.

It declared ownership, an unbreakable claim that no other Alpha would tolerate being violated.

For a bride in an arranged marriage between powerful families to arrive already bonded to another Alpha, already carrying his scent embedded in her very soul, was the ultimate insult—a broken contract, a stain on both families' honor, grounds for war between packs.

Drax would kill me for this.

The moment he scented Vern's bond on me, I was dead.

Cold sweat broke out across my back, and my fingers trembled as I deleted Vern's messages one by one.

I had to find a way out of this—some way to mask the bond, to buy myself time.

No matter what it took, I had to survive.

I won't just survive—I'll claw my way to the top by any means necessary.

I'll avenge Mom and get Mia the treatment she needs.

I'll never be a useless pushover for anyone to trample on again.

As the car wound up the mountain road, an enormous estate gradually came into view, sprawling across what seemed like an entire mountainside.

I was ushered inside by maids who bathed me in rose-scented water—probably an attempt to cover any lingering scent—then dressed me in silk before finally placing me on a massive bed covered in plush down comforters.

A gift wrapped and waiting to be opened.

My heart pounded faster.

Ella kept whispering frantically in my mind, but neither of us could come up with a solution.

The bond was there, permanent, and any Alpha would sense it the moment he got close enough.

"Alpha, Cynthia is inside," a maid's respectful voice came from outside the door.

I watched, frozen, as the door slowly opened.

An overwhelming presence filled the room instantly—Drax's scent and aura rolling in like a storm, completely different from Vern's or Brandon's, more dominant and commanding, pressing against my senses with suffocating intensity.

He was coming in.